Sometimes, you can’t even imagine what life throws at you. According to a woman called Ann Young on Quora, she was sexually abused by her uncle at the age of 3, raped by her elder brother at the age of 9, sexually abused by her step-father at 15 and raped by her boyfriend at the age of 17. She suffered physical abuse by her parents till she finally moved out at 18. Child Protective Services failed to help her. The man she eventually fell in love with impregnated her at the age of 25, abused her and left. She brought up the son all by herself who finally abandoned her to live with Ann’s parents and his biological father.

Today at 42, she is disabled because she cannot sit or stand for long periods of time because of the continuous physical abuse. All that keeps her going are her cats to whom she has promised a “forever home”.

Ann shared her story on Quora which has garnered massive support from all corners of the world. It has been viewed over 300,000 times and people are flooding her with messages. “Massive, massive respect to you Ann. Only an extraordinary person with incredible courage could have survived all that you have described,” writes a user. “I am in awe of your strength and determination, you inspire me,” writes another.

Excerpts from her story:

The hardest day of my life was my entire childhood. At age 3, my uncle made me lick his penis “like a lollypop.” At age 9, I was raped by another family member. At 15, my mom and step-dad thought it was funny for my step-dad to touch my breasts. I was date raped at age 17.My mom’s second husband would make me strip naked and lay in the center of my bed while he beat me all over my body. My mom’s third and current husband, my step-dad, beat me regularly for a decade, from the time I was 5 until I was 15.

I got hit for making too much noise in the morning. I got hit for eating the last pickle. I got hit for speaking. I got hit even if I opened my mouth to speak. I endured black eyes, bloody noses, fat and bloody lips, a broken finger, welt marks and bruises all over my body. I’ve been hit with a croquet mallet and beaten with a whiffle bat until it was broken in half. My entire childhood was terrifying.

The person who raped me when I was 9 years old was my older brother. He did not live with us.I didn’t tell on him until I was 11. My mom contacted the police and a woman came to our home… sent to live in a juvenile detention facility for 4 years.

A couple of people have asked me, “Why didn’t you get out?” As a young child, I didn’t realize I was being abused. I thought that all kids got hit like me. I was a bad child. I didn’t clean my room when I was told to. I made too much noise. Sometimes I talked back. I ate the last pickle. I didn’t clean up my parents mess in the kitchen. I could go on.

When my step-dad broke my finger my parents brought me to the hospital. I was told to say that I slipped and fell in the driveway.

Eventually, I started to confide in some of my friends and one friend’s mom in particular. I would tell her something and then I would be shocked and intrigued by her response. She was the one who got me to open up a little.

I was put in a foster home that night. I spent 4 nights there. On the 5th day, my parents called me.

The CPS worker came and brought me home. She stayed and chatted with my parents for a few minutes. My parents were so polite and friendly to her. Then she left. Then they turned on me and the smiles on their faces morphed into something that looked pure evil. I got a verbal beating that day that was so awful I just ran.

CPS never did another thing for me.

It is common for abused children to end up with abusive partners in adulthood. I ended up with an abusive police officer. He lied to me. He told me that he had had a vasectomy. He told me he wished he could get me pregnant so he could keep me in his life forever. At 25 I was pregnant, destitute and all alone.

I never told my son all the horrible things my parents or his father did to me. I wanted to protect my son. My son started rebelling at 16. A few months ago my son ran away for good. He lives with them now. They have turned him against me. He hates me. He does not want any chores or any rules. He will be 18 in September.

I have not worked in 12 years. I cannot sit or stand for long periods of time. I suffer chronic pain. I have muscle aches, joint pain and weakness, bone pain, and nerve pain all over my body all the time. I get injections all over my body just so I can function enough to care for my son and I.I did not date for 15 years while raising my son as a single parent.Now that I’m 42 and disabled, most men don’t find me appealing I guess.

I guess all my life I have wished for some kind of hero to come rescue me and take me away from this place, from them. I cannot go anywhere without great anxiety about running into one of them. I imagine this hero rescuing me and just holding me and letting me cry and telling me that’s it’s ok, that I can take a break, that I don’t have to be strong all the time. I imagine being loved for who I am and being told that I am deserving of love, that I am worthy of love. I have struggled and endured and survived abuse my whole entire life and I’ve learned that no such hero exists.